


Fifty Shades of Ray

by Missing_Intestines_18



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, asylum AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2139954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missing_Intestines_18/pseuds/Missing_Intestines_18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray and his other selves are pulled from the real world and shipped to Texas, where he makes new friends in his new home-- a mental ward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I am Ray.

**Author's Note:**

> Let the tarring and feathering begin.
> 
> I'm so terribly sorry about this horrid hiatus. It's been fuckin' months!! I'm such a bad person :c I just haven't been in the writing mood lately. That's not to say I've been feeling shit-- I got a wonderful boyfriend, and things have been dream-like and amazing since late June. But that doesn't give me an excuse to neglect you guys. I'm wicked sorry!! T^T
> 
> I've been sitting on this idea for a while, and it's been half done since, like, December. I'm glad I picked it up again. 
> 
> I hope I'm writing Ray okay. It's hard to channel people and do their personality justice. That being said, I think I did okay, and I'm happy with how this one turned out.
> 
> Feedback much appreciated!!

I know why I’m here.

Here, here as in Saint Gustavo Memorial Hospital in Austin. Here, in the Hullum Building, in the ward for the mentally ill.

And that’s what I am. Mentally ill.

Not to say it’s all bad here; I mean, my mom brought me my Xbox, and I don’t have to work, and there’s okay Wi-Fi, and the other guys are (for the most part) pretty cool.

But it’s still a loony bin, and I might be one of the worst in here.

\--

Today, I’m Ray.

I have dissociative identity disorder. There are a several other Rays running around my head, and sometimes, one of them takes the wheel.

And it totally blows, because I never know I’ve switched until after I revert back to plain old Ray. I’m a regular Jekyll and Hyde. When I was younger, it was really scary, because I would be one place, then wake up as myself somewhere else. And the headaches were fucking intense, and I’d have them almost daily, and it’d feel like my head was splitting in half.

But I’m used to it now.

So yeah, the other crazies here are pretty cool. I’ve been here for, like, a year or so, and they’ve made me part of their psycho posse, which is sweet.

Jack has been here the longest. I guess his OCD’s bad enough that he got institutionalized. Apparently, he can get real violent (which, with a guy his size, might prove fatal). I’ve never seen him go super berserk, but I’ve been hit before, and that bruise was there for weeks. He gets real pissy about shit being out of place, and if it gets too bad, he’ll throw a fit, and Geoff’ll have to come over and calm him down.

Oh, Geoff is the head nurse on our floor. He’s pretty chill, but I don’t know how he keeps his job, because he’s drunk most of the time. I’m convinced he swipes drugs sometimes and sells them to the normal people in the outside world, but whatever. He brings me fast food all the time.

Anyways, if Jack flips out, Geoff comes over to give him a chill pill and send him to his room. Every available surface in that room is covered in these little Popsicle stick houses Jack makes when he’s angry or anxious. It’s weird, but hey, whatever makes you happy, right?

Jack’s the only one actually from Texas. Saint Gustavo’s has a ton of specialists employed, so people get sent from all over to get treated. I myself came from New York City, which is pretty far away from Austin, but there’s this prick from England here too who’s tight with Geoff.

Said prick is Gavin, and he’s got narcissistic personality disorder. He’s totally convinced everyone loves him, and that he’s perfect, and all that sort of shit. Like, high-school attention-whore slut times 1,000. Me and Geoff have hypothesized that he was a hooker in England, just to get his affection fix. Not completely sure why he’s here, though. Geoff has known him the longest, and he reckons Gavin was endangering himself with all his sexploits and manipulative ventures so they had to keep an eye on them And I guess they just got sick of him over there, so they shipped him our way.

He isn’t too bad, I don’t think. He can be pretty cool when he isn’t strutting around like a god among men. And since he thinks he’s so awesome, he doesn’t notice when he’s acting like a total fucking idiot. But it’s funny, so it’s all good.

Anyways, he’s pretty attached to this guy Michael from Jersey. And Christ, this dude can be scary. I asked Geoff one time and he said Michael has intermittent explosive disorder, which is exactly what it sounds like. He’s a fucking bob-omb and no stranger to being restrained, and I learned quick how to dodge potentially fatal situations. He and I are pretty tight now after I surrendered a Capri Sun to him. We game a lot, though that’s when he can really get ugly. There are a ton of dents in his walls from controller-throwing. His girlfriend, Lindsay (who’s a fucking trooper for putting up with Michael’s shit), has to bring a new controller every few visits. And she visits all the time.

I wish I had more visitors. My only real regular is Tina. Mom wants to visit more, but she’s over a thousand miles away and currently hurting for cash. But I’ve made friends here, so it’s cool.

Oh shit, I almost forgot the most deranged of us all. There’s this guy Ryan who’s a schizo, seeing and hearing shit. Sometimes he pulls a Ray and thinks he’s the “Mad King” or some shit and bosses us around (Michael is particularly volatile those days). But mostly, he just talks to himself, or whatever he hallucinates around him. We try to go along so we don’t set him off. The weird thing is, almost all of the things he sees are animals, his favorite being a cow named Edgar. Sometimes he talks to empty space, and sometimes he calls us “Edgar” and tries to get us in the lower landing in the stairwell so he can look down at us. For the most part, though, he’s a funny guy, and hangs out with us. He’s got a wife (and she’s a vet, go figure) and two young kids. I hope he gets out soon for their sake.

I kind of hope I get out too. I haven’t seen my New York friends in a year. I don’t know how their free lives are going. If they decided to go to college or got married or even had kids. Hell, if they even associate with each other anymore—you never know. Sometimes I wonder if they’ve forgotten me. I try not to think about it.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be rehabilitated enough to be released into the real world again.  I don’t know if the meds they pump into me are helping. I don’t know if my weekly sessions with Dr. Burns are helping. I don’t know if I’m a danger to society because I don’t know the other Rays well enough.

Maybe I’ll be here for the rest of my life, but being here isn’t cheap, and my mom’s footing the bill. I hate myself for that.

It blows, but what can I do?

\--

It’s Tuesday. I can tell because Jack is wearing his orange Texas Longhorns shirt.

Today we’re watching _Frozen,_ selected by Geoff’s daughter Millie, who is hanging out with us while her mother’s at work. Damn, does that kid have good taste. Before the movie started, Michael had insisted the sing-along subtitles be on. I can tell the next few weeks will be nothing but off-key renditions of _Let It Go._ And it’ll be fucking awesome.

To my right, Jack fiddles with a Rubix Cube. Every few minutes, he taps a rhythm I don’t recognize into its side. I don’t think he’s paying attention to the pure gold in front of him (his loss, really), but at least he’s quiet.

Michael sits to my left. He’s got that super relaxed glaze about his face, like how he looks when he’s watching _My Little Pony_ or _Pokémon._ But I know if I make one wrong move, I could get hit.

I suppose most of us identify with Elsa. Like, being misunderstood and dangerous without meaning to. The other guys look as enraptured as Michael (except Jack), and the only non-movie noise I can hear is Ryan just behind Jack, whispering things to his imaginary friends under his breath.

_“Who do you think is prettier, Edgar: Anna or Elsa? I think Anna’s a better singer, but Elsa’s the looker. What was that? … Of course, Prince Oinkins, you would be a much better ruler of Arendelle…”_

I smile to myself.

Millie sits with her father in the front. Her head is tilted back to see the screen.

I wonder if I’ll ever have kids. Millie is so cool, but who’s to say mine won’t be little shits? And could they ever grasp their dad’s stupid disorder?

Who am I kidding? There probably isn’t a girlfriend in my future, not with me living here. Where am I gonna meet someone, on our occasional field trip to Schlitterbahn or Alamo Drafthouse? My chances aren’t good.

I try to concentrate on the movie again. Dr. Burns says distracting oneself is important when these thoughts pop up. And they pop up often. I’m just glad there are plenty of distractions.

After the movie, Michael grabs me and together we gush about it and its sheer awesomeness. Millie joins in after overhearing us. Damn, for a eight-year-old, that girl is perceptive as fuck.

“Anna’s such an idiot though,” she was saying. “She thinks she fell in love with some guy she met, like, an hour ago and he totally tricks her! Hans is such a dickwad…”

Michael snorts. “Who taught you that word?”

“Daddy.”

“Of course he did.”

\--

Geoff’s wife came to pick up Millie around four. Michael retreated into the room he shared with Gavin for gaming. I could hear him through the wall, yelling at their TV.

I considered firing up the Xbox myself, but decided I was too tired.

My room (which I had to myself, which was pretty cool) overlooks a little courtyard that’s almost always covered with shade from the buildings around it. I go down once in a while if it isn’t too hot, but I’m generally afraid of the outdoors, so it’s never for long.

Below, a nurse pushes an old guy around in a wheelchair. I sigh, trying not to think about the fact that that’ll probably be me someday, and look up, straight across to the lady wing of Hullum.

I squint. There was a girl, maybe my height, with blonde hair, staring back at me. Well, at least I think she was staring back at me.

I raise my hand and give a little wave and, to my surprise, she waves back. I smile.

An interesting development. I hope I don’t ruin this for me.


	2. Still Ray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit shorter, only because the first chapter was mostly introduction, and I think I ended it in a good place.
> 
> I've been feeling a little fragile as of late. I'm starting college Friday, which means moving two hours away from home and my commuter boyfriend. When I was younger, I'd have separation anxiety and homesickness, but I think I'm pretty over it now. Still, mum doesn't want me coming home some weekends 'til mid-October, so I'll have to stick it out 'til then.
> 
> Man, growing up is hard.
> 
> Tell me if I suck!

Ray still ray-ns.

Get it? Ray-ns? Reigns?

It’s Thursday. Tina had the day off so she decided to waste the afternoon seeing me. I’m not complaining, it’s just I’m sure she has better things to do. I don’t want her to become as unproductive as me. But I’m grateful.

We’re chilling in my room. I tell her about my week—about _Frozen,_ and Millie, and my new high score in _Tetris_. As an afterthought, I tell her about the girl I saw across the courtyard. She raises her eyebrows.

“A loony lady, huh?” she muses. “Sounds like a match.”

I don’t mind it when she calls me crazy. I know many of the other guys take offence—Michael especially. Gavin and Ryan deny it adamantly.

I sigh. “I dunno.”

“You interested?”

“I don’t even know her. For all I know, she could be twice my age. And considering my eyes are shit, that’s a legitimate possibility.”

Tina looks at me and makes a face. “Stay positive, Ray. Think you could go see her?”

“Dunno. I don’t think dicks are allowed over there. I’ll have to ask Geoff.”

“You could meet in the courtyard.”

I grimace. “How am I supposed to swing that? Should I make a poster with fucking glitter glue and stickers and stare at her window until she happens to look my way?”

“Maybe. Or you could get Geoff to give her a note.”

“Dude, if he got caught, he could totally lose his job.”

“He’s done worse things, hasn’t he?”

“Good point.” I rub my eyes beneath my glasses. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. “I dunno, Teen. Think it’s worth it?”

She grins. “Hey, if it’ll get you laid.” Hard to argue with that logic. I haven’t had sex in over two years, and my masturbatory habits have only gotten worse. “Just try. For me? Dude, you actually seem excited for once.”

I feel a smile creep across my face. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good boy. And as a reward, I brought you McDonald’s.”

\--

Tina had to leave at five to meet her boyfriend for dinner. I’ve never met the guy, though he sounds nice and he clearly makes her happy. But I bet he doesn’t even lift.

Geoff is tipsy. He was lucky Lindsay was visiting too, so Michael is all mellow. Currently, Michael’s watching _My Little Pony._ On any other day, I’d join him and rip on Fluttershy (taking care to keep an eye on his rage-o-meter), but Tina’s encouragement had me wandering up to Geoff.

He’s holed up in his office, glued to _Gossip Girl_ on his laptop (such a fucking girl) with a half-finished bottle of whiskey hidden below his desk. He pauses the show when I walk in and spins around in his chair.

“Ray,” he says with his stupid grin, “What can I do you for?”

I settle into one of the few chairs. It reminds me of the ones I sat on throughout school, all cold and hard and uncomfy. Damn Geoff and his lumbar-supporting swivel.

“I have a few questions about the lady ward,” I say, trying to sound casual as possible. “Are we allowed in there?”

“Nope.” Geoff takes a sip of whiskey straight from the bottle. I never liked booze. My buddies from school would always steal from their parents and invite me to their basement parties. They called me a pussy when I refused. But hey, I don’t want to fuck up my life the way my dad did.

“I figured,” I mutter.

Geoff’s curly ‘stache curls more as he grins. “Why, looking for some pink?”

I decide Geoff’s bro enough to know of my predicament, so I tell him the story. When I’m done, he leans back in his chair and twists his ‘stache like an old-timey villain.

“Weeeeell…” he muses, “I _could_ talk to Ashley over there and find out who your mystery babe is…”

Glad to know Geoff is for the boys. I grin. “Thanks, dude. I owe you one.”

Geoff waves his hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t tell Gav. I’ll have him up my ass about finding him a girl.”

I left his office with a stupid smile on my face.

\--

I had a session with Dr. Burns at two.

His office is this square little “safe place” with a desk against one of the walls and three big armchairs he rotates every few weeks. Today, he’s sitting in the green chair, and, as always, I take the red one. He never takes it for himself, at least with me; it’s always been my favorite, and a few of my other selves have particular attachments to it.

My loaded file sits open on his nearly-bare desk, pulled from the massive cabinet in the corner. There are board- and card-games stacked on top, and a cat poster taped to the side. I always find myself staring at the cartoon cat with its stupid punny title— _Cat-astrophic Signs of Anxiety_ —whenever he asks a question.

“So, Ray,” he begins, settling deeper into his chair. “How are you?”

“Good.”

“Mood?”

“Varies.”

“Hmm.” He makes a note on his tablet. I think he may up my meds. “Elaborate.”

I tell him about my pondering about my future and family, all the shit that’s been running through my head—well, except for the mystery girl. I feel comfortable with Burnie (as we’ve been welcomed to call him), and he’s a real cool guy, but I don’t think expressing my idea to possibly get with another patient would go over well.

When I finish, he sighs and takes off his hipster glasses. “Y’gotta stop thinking that way, Ray,” he says firmly, with a sorry-dude-but-that’s-how-it’s-got-to-be look. “You’ve made improvements. You’ve stayed Ray for, what, two weeks? That’s an all-time high, buddy.”

That cheers me up a bit. “So you think I’ll get out soon?”

“That’s all up to you.”

I hate those answers. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, how to control this. I’m going to have this for the rest of my life.

Burnie can see the glumness in my face. He puts his glasses back on and sits back, donning a smile. “So, how’s Tina?”

\--

After my mandatory hour and a half was up, I leave in worse spirits than when I went in.

When I first started educating myself about my disorder, I learned that most changes are brought on by emotions. So I guess Regular Ray is Depressed Ray.

Hey, fake it ‘til you make it, right?

\--

Friday morning. Well, you can’t really call it morning when you wake up at lunch time.

After my normal couple of bagels, I wander around looking for something to do. Jack’s at one of the coffee tables slaving away at another one of his houses. Sometimes I just watch him. He’s painting this one, which means he’s very happy with it and it wasn’t made to blow off steam.

I look up to see Geoff waving at me through the wire-enforced window of his corner office. When I enter, he has this gleeful grin stretching his ‘stache.

“So I talked to Ashley,” he gushes after I close the door and sit down, “and she gave me this.”

He hands me a page of three half-sheets photocopied into one. I recognize the official-ness of a hospital record, and what few lines of text that had been exposed were Sharpie’d out, leaving wallet-sized black-and-white photos of three light-haired women.

Out of the three, I instantly recognize the girl I’d seen out my window. She’s gorgeous, round-faced and fair-skinned. There’s a sad, almost hurt look on her face, pursing her lips. Above her picture is scrawled _Courtney Crawford_ in light-blue ink.

“Dude,” I say, looking up at Geoff, “thank you so much. Really, this means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it, buddy,” he replies with his usual lazy smile. “But seriously, don’t. I’d get in trouble.”

“My lips are sealed.” I stand and hug him.

“Hey, get out of here!” he laughs, pushing me away.

“If I write her a note, will you pass it on?” I ask eagerly.

“Sure. Jeez, you’re sappy as dicks…”

I practically skip back to my room.

Courtney, huh? How appropriate.


End file.
